Hitomukashi
by FyreFlie
Summary: Haga reflects on his and Ryuzaki’s decade of friendship. First chapter of many. Will contain slashyaoi in later chapters.


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Hitomukashi

Disclaimer: I own bugger all.

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Rating: PG at the moment. Will probably get higher as the story progresses.

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Content: This chapter is very general and character based. Perhaps a tad angsty. There will be slash and some bits of violence and drug abuse in later chapters though.

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Summary: Haga reflects on his and Ryuzaki's decade of friendship.

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Author Notes: This will be the first story in which I have used the Japanese names of the Yu-Gi-Oh! Characters. Hoorah! For those who don't know;

Insector Haga = Weevil Underwood.

Dinosaur Ryuzaki = Rex Raptor.

Baring that in mind, this story isn't for Haga and/or Ryuzaki fans, as it focuses totally on them and their relationship as I see it. Mind you, if you aren't a Haga and/or Ryuzaki fan, you might want to read this anyway. Maybe I'll convert you, neh? ^_^

As I've said before, this story will feature slash/yaoi/shounen-ai/boy-on-boy monkey lovin', so if you're not keen on that sort of stuff, you might not want to read it. 'Course, since they're only eight years old in this chapter, there's none of that stuff just yet. C'mon, what kind of sick freak do you take me for?

Don't answer that.

Just out of interest, the title 'Hitomukashi' is a Japanese word, which pretty much means 'decade' or 'the past ten years.' Since this is a story reflecting over a decade, this is merely the first chapter. So there's lots more to come. ^_^ Just so long as I don't get writer's block. *Cries*

Anyway…Story? Yes?

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Hitomukashi

I've never been so nervous in my life. My head is pulsing, my heart is pounding and my stomach's all tied up in knots. I feel like I'm on my way to a funeral. Appropriate, since I'll probably end up desiring my own once all is said and done.

I make a slow walk down the high street, contemplating how I have come to this point in my life. It's been a rather strange journey, let me tell you. It all began when I was just eight years old. And now, a whole decade later, I fear it may be brought to an end.

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I'd always loved the summer. It was without a doubt my favourite season, spring coming in close second. I'd spend hours playing at the park by my house, chasing butterflies around the hedgerow. The sun would blaze down all morning long, warming my flesh to contrast with the coolness of the lush long bladed grass I would crawl through. I remember laying on my back in amongst daisy patches, staring up into the blue sky, my imagination moulding fluffy clouds into shapes of animals. I'd get lost in my own secret world. It was mine, and nobody else could enter it. 

But then there were times when my perfect world seemed just too big to keep all to myself. There was nothing I wanted more than to share the humble beauty of the park with another. It was never that easy to find such a kindred spirit. All the other children seemed more interested in playing baseball or card games, riding their bicycles or loitering about the swing set. I never had any interest in such material possessions, which led me to consider whether I should have been. Was it right that something as simple as a glorious summer's day could keep a healthy eight year old child entertained? I didn't know. All the other boys my age seemed so much older than I was, physically and mentally. Perhaps that was why they never paid me any mind.

It was during this summer that the day that would change my life forever occurred. I remember it vividly. It was early afternoon, just after lunchtime. I'd just released the hoard of moths and butterflies I'd spent the morning capturing. I never kept them for more than a day. I didn't believe in chloroform or pins or glass cases. I merely kept my delicate companions in a ventilated jar and admired them for a short time. They displayed such an attractive array of colours when their wings would twitch, and sparkle like dragon tears. They were a symbol of inspiration to me, bringing me to believe that beauty could exist even in something as insignificant and as fragile as a moth. There was hope for me still.

As the last butterfly flitted off into the trees, I gathered my net and jar into my backpack and reclined back on the grass. I sighed as I glanced up at the clouds. The sky was looking especially vast today. Just as the usual shapes began forming in my mind, I heard a distressed whimpering coming from not far off behind me. My first thought was one of the other children had fallen off their bicycle or something to that effect. But then I realised that what was behind me was a maze of hedgerow, totally secluded from the rest of the park. Intrigued at who could possibly wish to be more isolated from existence than I was, I crawled on my hands and knees into the thicket. It was a tight squeeze, even for someone of my diminutive stature, and the spiked branches gripped and tore at my clothing. Regardless, I clenched my eyes shut and continued on my way.

When I finally reached the other side of the hedgerow, I opened my eyes to discover a small clearing. In the middle of this clearing sat a boy around my age. He was a little taller than me, with fairly long dusty brown hair. His dark eyes were welled up with tears, a pained expression pasted across his face. He didn't look threatening by any degree, so I slowly approached him.

'Are you okay?'

He jumped visibly, standing up then falling over again as he turned to face me. He blinked at me curiously, then pushed his lips into a pout as he cast his eyes down to the ground. Following his gaze, I saw that the back of his wrist was inflamed, a telltale white bump in the centre of the redness indicating the reason for his anguish.

'You got stung?' I asked softly.

He nodded, biting his bottom lip in between his teeth. I reacted almost instinctively, reaching into my backpack and pulling out my first aid kit. He watched me, his eyes widening slightly. I smiled reassuringly at him.

'Now, was it a bee or a wasp that did it?' I enquired. 'Looks like a bee sting, am I right?'

The question was answered with more wordless nodding. I opened my kit and picked out the appropriate equipment. I paused before hesitantly taking my new companion's hand in mine without permission, figuring he wasn't really in the position for complaining that I hadn't anyway. He winced and hissed a little as I carefully manoeuvred the sting from his skin, then rinsed the wound over with some sting counteractive spray. I then dried the skin off with a lump of cotton wool and dressed the wound as best I could with a band-aid. This was all just a routine procedure for me. The bees in this area really did have quite a temper.

'There you are,' I said finally. 'The pain and swelling should fade soon. You don't feel sick or dizzy or anything, do you?'

He shook his head vigorously. I grinned, finding it hard to believe that I'd seemingly met somebody more introverted than even I was. He watched me motionlessly as I packed away the first aid kit, his eyes bugging out at the array of bandages, tablets and ointments I had stored within it.

'Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?' he cracked suddenly.

I giggled, slipping the kit back into my bag before turning to sit facing the other boy.

'Oh, I'm not a doctor,' I replied. 'I'm just rather accident prone.'

'Me too,' he replied with a grin. 'Thanks for helping me out.'

'Really, it's no probl-Oh!'

I was cut short as I leaned back and felt something sharp digging into my back. I jumped up and looked around at a small plastic creature. No wonder I hadn't seen it, as its bottle green colouring was almost identical to that of the grass in which it so masterfully concealed itself. It bared its teeth at me wickedly, and appeared to be flailing its ferocious looking claws in my direction. My brunette comrade chuckled, leaning over me to pick the scaly demon out of its grassy veil.

'It's okay. That's just Rex,' he explained jovially. 'He's the king of beasts, you know.'

He let out a playful little roar sound that wasn't frightening enough to intimidate a hamster, and gently bopped me on the nose with 'Rex's' left foot. We both giggled crazily as my new friend politely held out his good hand to me.

'My name's Ryuzaki,' he said. 'What's yours?'

'Haga,' I replied, taking his hand and shaking it enthusiastically. 'Nice to meet you.'

And so our friendship was born. We talked and played together the rest of the afternoon, sharing the knowledge that we had of our interests and hobbies. Up until now, nobody had understood or appreciated my infatuation with wildlife, specifically insects. But for some reason, Ryuzaki seemed to accept it as perfectly normal.

'If you think bees and butterflies are cool, you ought to see the stuff that's under the ground!'

He told me that when playing in the dirt with his toys, he'd often seen strange looking creatures under rocks, or tunnelling their way up through the soil, then disappearing back down again. We made plans to come back to the spot inside the hedgerow early the next morning with spades, so we could dig up the earth and see what wonders we could find.

'I wonder if my Stegosaurus would be any good at digging holes,' Ryuzaki mused aloud. 'Hmm…Maybe Triceratops would be better, with his horns and all.'

I couldn't help but grin. It seemed my passion for bugs was rivalled by Ryuzaki's passion for all things fossilised. He told me a lot about dinosaurs that day. I was in awe of how he could remember all of their ridiculously long and complex names, as well as all of the dates of the specific ages in which they existed. That said, he seemed equally impressed when I rattled off a variety of facts about everyday insects that he'd taken for granted before encountering me.

'You always see a lot of ants together because they live in colonies, a lot like humans do,' I explained to him. 'There can be thousands or even millions of ants in one colony alone.'

'Millions?' Ryuzaki breathed. 'Wow…That's really creepy. Imagine a million ants crawling all over you. Yuck.'

I smiled. 'Yeah. Some may even bite you too.'

'Bite?' he shuddered. 'Eaten alive by a colony of ants. What a way to go!'

I nodded, glancing up through the thin branches overhead. The sky had faded from blue into an orange-red, shades of purple now tinting the horizon with the on-coming twilight. Observing my reaction to the darkened sky, Ryuzaki looked at his wristwatch.

'It's nearly eight thirty,' he said, moving to rise up on his hands and knees. 'We should be heading home.'

Reluctantly, I made a noise of agreement before following him out of the thicket. Once I reached the other side, Ryuzaki was already on his feet, offering me an outstretched hand of assistance. I smiled gratefully and allowed him to pull me to my feet. We walked together to the park gates. I'd never been out in the park this late before. It was so empty and calm, the only sound being that of a teenage couple whispering to each other quietly by the pond, as well as the hushed chirping of crickets.

'Where do you live?' Ryuzaki asked me.

'Down by the library.'

'Cool, I live just passed there,' he smiled. 'I'll walk you home.'

I returned his smile as we trotted down the pavement side by side, chatting merrily about what our plans for tomorrow were. I was overjoyed that he wanted to play with me again. Any other person would have grown bored with me by now. But Ryuzaki was different, I could tell. We shared a special understanding, a uniqueness of personality that nobody else could quite comprehend. I felt so glad and lucky that I had met him.

Just as we reached my house, I felt Ryuzaki's hand on my shoulder. He smiled at me fondly before briefly embracing me. I didn't quite know what to do. It had been a long time since anyone other than my father had held me like this. I reluctantly lifted my hands and rubbed them against Ryuzaki's shoulders.

'I had an awesome time hanging out with you today, Haga,' he said, pulling away from me. 'You're a really cool guy. I can't wait for tomorrow.'

I couldn't help the red flush that entered my cheeks as he spoke. He had actually enjoyed spending time with me. I smiled coyly. The feeling was definitely mutual.

'Neither can I,' I said softly. 'Sleep well, Ryuzaki.'

'I will,' he replied. 'Eight o' clock tomorrow morning, remember?'

'I'll remember. Bye.'

He waved and turned to walk the rest of the way to his house as I closed the door to my apartment building behind me. I was so excited for tomorrow, I had no idea how I was going to sleep tonight. Climbing the stairs, I reached room 2D to find the apartment was in darkness. This didn't surprise me at all as I slipped my key into the lock and quickly entered my home. As I slipped my sneakers off and hung up my coat and backpack, I heard the gentle tapping of a keyboard emitting from the room that was now known as the study. It used to be my father's den. Everyday when I came in from school he would be sitting in there, the daily newspaper in one hand and a mug of cocoa in the other. I would run in, pounce on his knee and read with him, stealing a few sips from his mug as I did so. He always pretended not to notice, but I knew that he did. Those times felt like so long ago.

I slipped silently into the study, wondering to myself how the luminous glow of the laptop screen accompanied by the continuous sound of keys clicking didn't send my mother insane as she worked.

'Good evening, son,' she greeted me, not looking up or stopping her typing. 'Are you late home?'

'No, mother,' I answered softly.

'Did you have a nice day at the park?'

Ignoring her disinterested tone, I nodded. 'Yes, mother. I made a new friend today.'

She made a 'hmm' sound, her fingers continuing to dance across the keyboard. I noticed that she was yet to change out of her work clothes, and her hair was still tied up in the same tight ponytail she had left wearing this morning. I listened to the tapping quietly for a few moments before clearing my throat.

'He's really nice,' I went on. 'His name's Ryuzaki. He's going to help me look for new bugs in the park tomorrow.'

Suddenly, my mother stopped typing. I felt an ice-cold chill run up my spine as the room went deadly silent. She looked round at me, blinking behind her black-rimmed glasses as if noticing my presence for the first time.

'Tomorrow?'

'Yes, mother?' I replied slowly.

'What day is tomorrow?'

'Tuesday, mother.'

'Tuesday…'

She flipped open the little black book on her desk, her eyes scanning the pages quickly before she chuckled derisively.

'My, where does the time go? I have two deadlines to get on the editor's desk by 2pm sharp, and I haven't even so much as looked at them yet.'

Rising to her feet, she scurried out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen. I didn't move, but heard the sharp snap of the coffee maker as it was switched on.

'Looks like it's another all-nighter for mummy, dear,' she called to me over the noise of the machine. 'You can tuck yourself in tonight, can't you?'

I was about to remark that it wouldn't make a difference, since I tucked myself in every night anyway, but she probably wouldn't have heard or cared if I had. Sighing, I paced down the hallway and into the bathroom to clean up. As I washed my dirt-covered hands in the sink, I thought about how much my mother had changed in such a short period of time. A matter of months ago, she was so attentive and affectionate. She was a caring woman who wore floral dresses, and worked from home running a simple little agony aunt column in the local newspaper. She was a doting wife and a loving mother, who prioritised her family above all else. Was this just another one of the 'big changes' that happened to children as they grew up that everybody talked about so discreetly? Either way, I didn't like it.

Once my teeth were brushed, I re-entered the hallway. The distinctive smell of freshly-made black coffee flooded the apartment, and the incessant tapping had returned once again. I padded quietly to my bedroom, closing the door silently behind me. I turned on the lamp on my bedside table and quickly changed into my pyjamas, then sat on the edge of my mattress to set my alarm clock for the next morning. I smiled for the first time since entering my home as I thought about how I was going to spend the next day with Ryuzaki. There was so much more I wanted to know about my new friend, and so much I wanted him to know about me. I was usually so pessimistic about relationships with other people, but something deep down inside of me told me that Ryuzaki and I were going to be good friends for a long time.

I reached under my bed and pulled out the small plastic tank that my friend Roku lived in. He twitched slightly as his home jolted in my hand, then scurried to the side of the tank that was closest to me. He flailed his thick hairy legs at me amiably, awaiting his evening meal. I obliging reached into my bedside table drawer and took out the large matchbox in which I stored a collection of live treats for my pet. I lifted the lid to the tank and dropped in a fair sized cricket, which was pounced on and quickly devoured. Roku, despite being a tarantula, was a good friend of mine. I found him at the park one day a few weeks before. He had been cornered and nearly made a meal out of by a raven. I had managed to tackle the bird, surprising it enough that it dropped the poor spider. Though Roku survived the attack from the bird, he unfortunately lost two legs as a result of the ordeal. That's what made him so special to me though.

Once Roku had finished his meal, I kissed the side of the tank and wished him good night. I slipped the tank back under my bed, careful to conceal it thoroughly behind the valance. My mother wasn't all that fond of spiders, so even though it was highly unlikely that she would, I didn't want to risk her coming into my room, only to find and dispose of my only pet. Once I was satisfied that Roku was properly hidden, I settled back under my covers and reached over to click the lamp off. I paused, reconsidered, then reached into the bedside table drawer again. Under the matchbox of grubs was a photo-frame that I had salvaged after my mother had cleared my father's clutter out of the den to make way for the study. In the frame behind the glass was a black and white portrait of a familiar face. He was an intelligent looking middle-aged man in glasses, his short light hair smartly swept back out of his face. The suit and tie he wore made him look extremely professional, and the gentle smile on his face made him look so tender. I sighed. I missed that smile so much. 

I touched the glass with my fingertips fondly, taking one last in-depth look at the image of my father before returning it to its place in the drawer. With one final sigh, I switched off the lamp and snuggled into my pillow, my eyes barely given the chance to adjust to the darkness before I fell into a dreamless sleep.

*~*~*

Ta-da! Chapter One! ^_^ So…What did you think? Let me know, would ya?

Also, the first person who can guess why I decided to name Haga's pet tarantula Roku get a cookie. *Brandishes the said prize teasingly* 

Ryuzaki: *Pouts* Hey…That's my damn cookie!

Sorry sugar-plum, but I need a treat for the reviewers.

Ryuzaki: *Scowls and pouts some more*

Aww, c'mon! Listen, I promise to make the slashy chapters later on especially lemony if you stop pouting. ^_^ Hmm?

Ryuzaki: *Stops pouting…Huffs instead*

*Sweatdrops* Anyway…Roku! I don't know why I chose a spider. I'm scared to death of the little blighters. I figured Haga wouldn't be though. I swear, I had goosebumps when I was describing its 'thick hairy legs'. *Shudders* Ack! Could have gone with the stick insect, by noooo!

Ryuzaki: Meh, it's nothing a rolled-up magazine can't solve.

Haga: *Whaps Ryuzaki across the head with a manga.*

Hey! Careful with my doujinshi! I'd better go and sort this out. Until next time, friends! ^_^ 

Thanks for reading!

FyreFlie

XxX


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